azurelunatic: Rock in the sea, captioned "stationed forever on a far-distant rock" (Housewife's Lament)
Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 ([personal profile] azurelunatic) wrote2017-09-17 03:48 pm
Entry tags:

Body horror: teeth edition; currently resolved (we think, but eventual More Medical)

Backstory: I haven't discussed this much, but there was a tooth that I was Very Unhappy about back in 2007-ish. It progressed in a kind of terrible direction; I only managed to avoid ending up in the hospital with a serious infection due to witchery/massive doses of Vitamin C when I noticed things starting to go in a worse way. I *finally* got it out in ... April? May?

That ten year woebasket was because the state of health care in the US is kind of terrible, and is not set up to be navigated by someone with untreated ADD and depression (untreated because, again, fucking health care).

At the time of the surgery, the main problem was that my bank was misbehaving in such a way that I wound up delaying getting pain meds in me while I got the surgeon paid, and I had a really terrible time with pain due to that delay.

I have the [redacted] family bones, and I am a good candidate for an implant once it was fully healed. The surgeon said three months. Three months was July something (after I moved out of state) so that hasn't happened yet.

Last week, I had a sore lymph node that was followed by soreness on the same side of the throat. I have no idea if this is at all related.

Yesterday, I had a little pain in the gap where the implant will be, right along the line of the surgery. Not much, just like there had been a sharp food and a cut and a little irritation around there. I proceeded to take care of it by not bothering it overmuch with my tongue.

This morning, after having apple sauce and a granola bar, I felt something small and sharp with my tongue. I poked at it with my tongue, thinking it was a bit of poorly-chewed granola and that I'd get it when I brushed my teeth after our shower. Poke poke poke. But it felt ... different.

I finished up my shower and took a careful look in the shaving mirror. There was something small and white in the space.

Also context: Before I was born (? either way I don't remember it), my mother had a terrible accident with a heavy door at Dad's workplace. It was a crush injury resulting in the amputation of most of the last joint of that finger. When I was a teenager, weird stuff started happening. Sores started to develop. Bone chips had started to migrate out to the surface, which was fascinating and also gross and painful. She had another surgery to make sure there were no bone chips left, and healed up nicely.

I prodded with my tongue again. Then I got the tweezers.

It took some groping around and tongue gymnastics, but I got it out. I stuck it in a little baggie so I can take it to the dentist, whoever that turns out to be, and they can try and see if it was tooth or bone or what. And if any more are likely to start migrating out.

I hope that's the only and last one. I am perhaps less pleased with the surgeon than previously.

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